


Overheated

by Olivegully



Category: The Outsiders - All Media Types
Genre: Anger, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, trauma mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:07:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28589262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olivegully/pseuds/Olivegully
Summary: Darry has to confront his own anger issues to be a better friend and brother.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	Overheated

**Author's Note:**

> Goddamn this started as a 400 word drabble, look at it now. 
> 
> TW: Panic attacks, discussions of abuse

Darry’s aching muscles screamed in protest as he hauled himself out of his chair. His body was still heavy with sweat and exhaustion from his shift, and he did not have the time to lay down. It was getting late and if he didn’t make dinner for these kids then nobody else would.

Lumbering to the kitchen, every utensil, and pot he held felt heavy in his hands. He nearly spilled the soup as he poured it from the can to the pot. Looking out the window, the sun was setting quicker than usual the later it got into the year, so Darry figured he’d call them in for supper early, as it would not be long for the soup to be done.

Heaving to the door, he called everyone in from their game of football. He did a quick headcount to see how many of his adopted family he’d need to feed tonight (anyone not there at the moment would either stop by later or had found a place for the night). There were Ponyboy and Sodapop of course, then Steve and Johnny. That made four, but he’d make a little extra to refrigerate in case anybody else stopped by.

“Hey, hey, y’all get your shoes off now,” Darry ordered as Steve and Ponyboy didn’t seem to get the memo after countless reminders. Telling them once should have been enough, Darry thought as he gritted his teeth.

“Ain’t even that dirty,” Steve replied, infuriatingly. Darry was too tired for this.

“Just get them off.” Darry couldn’t help the bite to his tone. It didn’t bother Steve too much, who just shucked them off and went to talk to Sodapop, but Darry could feel a tension in the room; even as nobody was showing it.

Nobody except Johnny, who Darry noticed was starting to fidget in place. He suddenly stood up and in the most forced-friendly way Darry had ever seen, trotted over to the kitchen. “Here, you need help?” Johnny asked, smiling as though somebody had a gun to his head.

Darry gave a little huff, he would much rather cook alone right now despite usually loving Johnny’s help, but it’d be rude to turn the little guy away. “Yeah.” he gritted out.

As they got to work, Johnny’s presence in that cramped space felt like a barrier. When the younger boy got close to the counter to pour another can of soup into the pot, the noise of sloshing made Darry feel sick. 

“I think this would taste better if I added pepper,” Johnny said, standing up on his tip-toes to see into the bowl. “You have any?” he asked.

Darry gave a jerky nod. “Yeah,” he groaned, “In the cupboard,” He then turned back to heating up the stove.

Behind him, he heard Sodapop laughing. “Woah, hey Johnnycakes you tryna crack your skull open?” 

Johnny’s reply was a snap “Not my fault y’all won’t invest in a step-stool.” 

Darry turned to see Johnny precariously balancing on the countertop, multiple spices gathered up in his thin arms. 

“Oi, Johnny!” Darry yelped, bolting to the countertop and grabbing Johnny by the waist. “I outta put you in a helmet if you’re gonna pull this shit, Jesus Christ kid!” he lifted the boy off the counter and held him in the air.

Johnny’s legs kicked a bit where they hovered off the ground, shrinking in embarrassment as Sodapop and Steve burst out laughing. 

“Ah c’mon Darry, he couldn’t reach,” Ponyboy called sympathetically.

“Oh I know you ain’t talking, little man, after you snapped your arm like a twig climbing around like that,” Darry growled in response.

Ponyboy looked incredulous. “Yeah when I was six, and my arm didn’t even break it just bruised like a peach.” 

“Can I get down now?” Came Johnny’s groan before Darry could come up with some kind of retort. 

Darry wasn’t thinking, he just opened his arms and expected Johnny to sort himself out. Of course, Johnny fell like a sack of bricks, and so did the spices.

“Ouch!”

Darry looked down and saw Johnny trying to pick up everything he dropped, he couldn’t help feeling bad. “Sorry,” he grunted, probably not sounding very sorry at all.

“Ain’t no reason to drop him!” Steve stood up, great, another person yelling.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Johnny said, looking more annoyed than actually hurt as he set the spices on the counter and got back to work. 

Steve sat back down reluctantly upon seeing that the only thing Darry had bruised was Johnny’s pride. But Sodapop didn’t seem like he wanted to let this situation simmer down.

“Dar’ I think you ought to hit the hay for now.” Said Sodapop, his sympathy sounding a lot like condescension right now.

“I’m just fine, thank you.” Darry snapped back, Sodapop shrank in response, funny he didn’t sound too angry in his head.

He tensed up his sore muscles upon feeling a small finger tap on his shoulder, whipping around way too fast he saw Johnny looking up at him with a worried expression. 

“Darry you really need to go take a shower and get some rest, I think you’ve had it hard enough today,” he said nervously.

“I’m busy,” Darry grunted back.

“I can finish dinner,” Johnny offered, “I’ve been cooking for myself for years and-”

“Leave me be, I’m fine.”

“Oh you clearly aren’t, don’t lie to me.”

Darry growled, taking a quick step closer before he could stop himself.

“I SAID LEAVE ME BE!” 

Darry had lost his usually tight grip on his temper at that moment. Nobody yells at Johnny in this house, because they all know that he gets enough of it at home. You’d have to be a monster to know what he goes through and still put him through.

Johnny’s face darkened, his eyes wide and he took a step back. Looking closer, Darry realized that _fuck_ he was shaking. 

“Shit. Johnnycakes I’m so-” Darry tried but Johnny turned quickly before anyone could see his reaction and walked out the door.

Darry remembered a night a few months ago when he’d snapped like this with Ponyboy, only that time he’d _hit_ him. Darry never thought he’d forgive himself, and he’d been working on controlling his anger for a while. Darry cringed at the thought that he could have hit Johnny or any of his other adopted brothers.

Darry tried to follow, but Sodapop stood up and put a hand on his chest. “Take our advice. Please.” He said, looking tired and disappointed but not angry.

Darry took a step back and headed for the shower. He needed to cool down before anything else. 

* * *

Johnny couldn’t think of anything as he sat on the porch, knees hugged up close to his chest. His mind was completely static as he stared into nothing, heart racing and breath coming out in ragged gasps.

He shouldn’t have reacted that way. Darry was just frustrated and he dealt with people yelling at him all the time at home. He shouldn’t be such a damned pansy, but he couldn’t help it.

He didn’t hear the door open or any footsteps when a hand was placed on his shoulder. Johnny jerked upwards, eyes huge, but then realized it was just Sodapop.

“Hey, buddy,” came Sodapop’s soft voice, his hand rubbing Johnny’s shoulder through his thick jacket. “Easy now, breath with me.”

Johnny felt Sodapop slide in next to him, wrapping both arms tight around Johnny’s much smaller frame, pulling his friend in close to his chest. Johnny burrowed his face into Sodapop’s shirt, as though it would give him some sort of anonymity while he tried to calm himself down. Tears soaked into the dark fabric. 

“I-I usually don’t re… usually don’t react like this.” Johnny cried softly, getting a good hold on his breathing, which was good as he was alrighty starting to get light-headed.

“Its okay, honey, nobody thinks any less of you. Darry’s probably beating himself up over this,” Sodapop reassured, rubbing Johnny’s back. “Buddy, I know something else is going on. You extra stressed? Had a bad day?”

Johnny gave a wobbly sigh, the tears finally slowing. He willed his voice to not waver, “Dad had today off,” was all he needed to say.

Sodapop sighed deeply, honey-colored brows furrowing. Johnny knew how much everyone in his patch-work family wanted to stick it to his biological parents, but he couldn’t let that happen. 

“Are you hurt at all?” Sodapop asked after a moment of composing himself. “We have plenty of ice, what, with all the fights our idiots like getting into,” Sodapop smirked and ruffled Johnny’s fluffy hair.

“Golly, Sodapop, y’all don’t have to do that.” Johnny wiped his eyes with his sleeve, face still flushed from crying.

“Don’t you worry about it, little buddy,” Sodapop said, “I do wish you would tell me when the bastard’s hurt you,” Sodapop pulled Johnny closer to him, “You don’t have to make an announcement or nothin’, like when one of the jackasses gets into a fight, just come to me or Darry or anybody else you feel safe with.” 

Johnny thought about that. He was used to having to heal his wounds in private, as he hated the whole deal everybody would make out of it when he came in with a black-eye or bruises on his arm.

“Thank you,” Johnny finally said, then with a still-shaky hand, tugged back a tuft of curly black hair to show the swelling bruise at the corner of his forehead. “I got pushed over, hit my head on the corner of the counter,” he said. This, as bad as it was, was on the more mild side of the things Johnny had endured. 

Sodapop cringed, his warm brown eyes glowing with sadness. “Oh Johnnycakes,” he reached out and gently touched his friend’s cheek. Johnny did not flinch away. “Let’s get some ice on that.”

Johnny nodded, a pang of guilt hitting him. Sodapop was clearly troubled by this, Johnny should not be finding joy in his friend’s reaction to his pain. 

“Hey, did dinner just get left on the stove?” he asked, remembering that he’d dropped everything to run outside.

Sodapop shook his head, seeming to cheer up a little. “Nup, Ponyboy and Steve-o are on it.”

Johnny blanched. “We better hurry back then…” Sodapop seemed to agree. 

Upon entering the house, Johnny was greeted by loud arguing coming from the kitchen, (Of course, he’d expected no less) and the faint hissing of the shower in the background.

“Put the goddamn ladle down, this shit ain’t done!” Steve barked at Ponyboy, who was trying to taste the steaming cauldron on the stove.

“I’m trying to see what we need to add.” Ponyboy defended himself, pulling out a scoop of the thick liquid and taking a slurp without even blowing on it. He nearly dropped the ladle and yelped, running to the sink to run his tongue under cool water while Steve guffawed.

“What's it need, mr. Chef sir?” Steve teased organizing the spices on the countertop.

“It probably needs to cool, given Horseboy’s caterwauling.” Johnny chided, trotting into the kitchen, he was well aware that his face was probably still red from crying.

Steve turned to Johnny with surprise, then cracked one of his gap-toothed grins. “Hey, little chiefs feelin’ better,” he said, setting the cinnamon down to screw up Johnny’s hair. 

Ponyboy tried to say something from the sink, but it was muffled by the sound of running water. Johnny smiled at him, “Yeah, I’m doing better now. Move over, I gotta help you guys.”

Sodapop cleared his throat from the couch, reminding Johnny that he still needed to get the ice. Johnny nodded to him. “I’ll do it after I’m done with this disaster.”

* * *

Darry turned off the water, feeling the cold chill of the surrounding air hit him fast as he was no longer being pelted with steaming hot water. 

He toweled off and headed to his bedroom to get dressed, but not before stopping to listen by the door; He counted two voices. It sounded like Steve and Ponyboy were trying to cook. That thought horrified him and he had to resist the urge to run out in nothing but a towel to make sure they didn’t burn the house down. But when Johnny’s voice joined them, he knew the crisis had been averted.

Oh.

For a moment he’d nearly forgotten what had recently transpired. He knew he technically should follow Sodapop’s advice and get some sleep before trying to fix his mess, but there's no way he could sleep with this weighing on his mind. 

As he got dressed, he kept listening. Johnny’s voice was… normal. It didn’t sound too wet or too upset, that forcefully cheery attitude from earlier was completely gone. He sounded fine.

Darry thought about that. Johnny would force a smile and his voice would rise in pitch sometimes during times of conflict. But only ever during an infight in the gang. It was strange because he clearly wasn’t like that all the time, but then it hit Darry; that was his way of diffusing situations.

That only made him feel more guilty. Johnny was trying to fix the situation, and he’d gone and yelled at him. Darry wanted to hide but knew that wasn’t the right thing to do. He was going to make this right.

He finished buttoning up his new shirt and stepped out into the living area.

Upon stepping outside, he saw that Steve and Ponyboy were sitting on the couch with the TV playing, but they were arguing with Johnny and Sodapop, who were both in the kitchen fixing dinner.

“I’m perfectly capable! I ain’t the one here who pressed my whole hand on the stove!” Steve shouted at Sodapop, who was pointing a wooden spoon at him.

“That was ONCE when I was SIX, Steven Lucas Randle!” Sodapop bit back, ouch, full name, never good.

“He’s done more stupid stuff if you want examples.” Ponyboy piped up from where he was curled up in the corner of the couch.

“See, Baby Horse agrees with me,” Steve said one of the rare times he’d side with the kid.

“What the hell did I walk into?” Darry groaned light-heartedly from the hallway. 

There was a moment of tense silence where everybody turned to look at him. Though it only lasted a heartbeat, Darry still felt as though he could cut the tension with a knife.

“Civil war.” Said Johnny from the kitchen, finally. “We banished them for their foolishness and now they’re trying to reclaim their territory.” with that, the tension in the room eased.

Darry let out the breath he didn’t notice he was holding. “Hey Johnnycakes, how are you feeling?”

Johnny set the ladle back in the soup and trotted over to Darry, nobody said a word as the two looked at each other. 

“I’m better.” Johnny looked a little nervous, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “Just…” He took a deep breath. “Had a bad day, so I overreacted.”

“Oh, Johnny, I was the one who overreacted,” Darry said softly, reaching out to Johnny to touch his shoulder, but staying his hand before he could out of fear the boy would flinch from his touch. “I’m so sorry.”

Johnny sighed, looking away. Darry could almost see the way his heartbeat in his chest. But then, he crossed the gap between them and pushed his forehead against Darry’s chest, wrapping his thin arms around the man.

Darry froze instantly, he was not expecting this at all. Before he could hesitate anymore, he wrapped Johnny up in his arms. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” He kept whispering, feeling as though he would cry. Fuck, he couldn’t cry right here in front of everybody. In truth, Darry felt like he’d failed Johnny. He’d promised him over and over again that he’d keep him safe, then he’d gone and acted like the very person putting Johnny in danger. 

He remembered Ponyboy’s face when he struck him that night and the misery that had come with knowing that he, his brother’s GUARDIAN for fucks sake, had just turned on him.

“I’ll do better,” Darry vowed into Johnny’s ear, voice soft and cracking with tears. “I promise.”

Johnny sighed shakily, pressing back. “I know, I’m not afraid of you I promise. You can act big n’ tough but you don’t scare me.”

Darry chuckled a little bit, only letting go when Johnny did. With that, the tension in the room was absolved.

“Hey teddy bear, dinners ready,” Sodapop called from the kitchen, and Darry sighed, feeling a weight lifted from his chest. 

“Be right there to help, Pepsi-cola.”

  
  
  
  



End file.
